Kimura High Tale
by aimsknight06
Summary: This is a derivative of the whole Katawa Shoujo concept. A school for disabled with tons of girls...Except this main dude isn't a nice guy like Hisao...


The bell rang for lunch. Crikes, another day with the weirdos in this class, not to mention this school. I refrain from leaping over the desks because of my "condition". It's excruciating to wait for the wheelchair girl to finally get out of the class. My parents may have meant well but being the only normal one amongst all these nobodies is annoying.

This is the private school of Kimura, a haven for retards, cripples and whatever troubled kid you could possibly have. Well, it also schools normal kids, but not as much as these. I'm Kisuke Omorishiki. My parents signed me up here, despite the fact I have no disability whatsoever, to let me do better in school. I mean, when a guy like me is compared to the class, I'm pretty much the top dog. Some can't even see or hear, and I feel sorry for their parents who pay for those costly health plans. My parents lied to the principal saying I have a problem with my legs or something, but it's a pain to hide.

The mute girl behind keeps staring at my legs. She probably thinks it's weird that a guy with arthritis is walking without even a limp. Stupid observant cripples.

"You want something?"

She immediately turns. Gutless, as I thought. The experience they all have of being stuck with only others of their misshapen kind has made them timid rats.

The lunch bell tolls again. The wheelchair girl in front finally gets out. Great, now I'm late for lunch.

...

The lunch bell tolls and the whole class is in a rabble trying to exit the room. Rima, as usual, cannot get out of the class without the help of at least five students to move her chair and support her. The rude new transfer student in front, Kisuke, I believe, notices my gaze and challenges, "You want something?"

That rude ass! I wasn't even looking at him! The class president always lags last. Duty to the class I suppose. Her body is missing all it's limbs except her right arm. It was pretty hard not to stare the first few times I was here. The story goes that she was crushed by steel beams, or something. Kisuke on the other hand, hmm... He claims to have arthritis of the leg though he is mostly mobile. There is no story of his either...Maybe there is reason for me to investigate, as a member of the school newspaper staff.

...

The sunshine is so warm as it wafts from the window panes in light streams. Otaru moves his bishop and takes my rook. My queen in turn takes his knight. He surprisingly sacrifices another bishop to exchange his pawn for his imprisoned queen.

"Checkmate, Tori."

I smile. I thought he would make that move...

My unnoticed knight moves in for kill. And his queen vanishes off the field. His face crumbles.

"I believe this game isn't over just yet."

He curses for his ignorance. I place my queen in alignment with his trapped king.

"Now it's checkmate."

He rises from his seat, defeated. The sound of the door sliding shut followed by silence means no one else is here. Now I can go enjoy my lunchtime in the gardens.

...

"And the quadrant here..." My arms move in a flurry trying to convey the explanation of the problem. She nods in understanding.

"Ah, so that's it...What about this one here, Miko?" She taps on question three. I had problems on that one too. The chair scrapes through the room that's almost silent, but no one pays heed. How could they?

"I'll ask the teacher" I sign to her.

Mr. Nishi hardly looks up from his grading papers.

"Um, Mr. Nishi?" He grunts in acknowledgment.

"Me and Abiko were having trouble with problem three."

Sighing and obviously exasperated, he follows me to our two desks and starts explaining the quadratics. As he drones and I translate to the best of my ability, Abiko is vigorously jotting notes for future reference. Sometimes, I wish there were more translators in the class so I wouldn't have to spend so many lunch periods tutoring all the time.

...

The ceiling is etched with many elegant swirls and figures, making it dizzying to stare at. A book, _I Talk Pretty One Day,_ rests on my chest as I stare empty-minded into the patterns. The librarian recommended this book for it's highly mature humor content, but so far, I'm not impressed. I simply can't grasp the way to chortle or laugh for fun.

My hand slips involuntarily and a thin trickle of red seeps down my finger. It stung, but I was fascinated by the splash of color it added to my skin tone. I hold it up to the light and the crimson sparkles as it drips. It shimmers for a moment and lands on my cheek, where it dribbles off and then stains my skirt.

Yes, some red would do good...

...

Trauma stares absentmindedly at her own blood falling from her hand. It seemed so dull to me. Yet the crimson thread did look enticing...

Her name is an unknown mystery to us. She is just called Trauma.

The librarian hurries over.

"Aah, Trauma, you're bleeding. Let's get you a band-aid..." And he led her away.

The others of our class don't even give a miniscule bit of attention to whatever just occurred.

_Mein Kampf_,_ Brave New World_, _Fire_, and many more renowned works have their attention firmly grasped. I look back to _The Great Gatsby_ and I can concur with this Mr. Fitzgerald's views.

We drift in a never ending ocean of possibility, good and bad. When fishing, you can't decide your catch before snaring one, and it may be something undesirable.

...

The food was unappetizing. I skipped the lunchroom and opened the door to the roof. I don't even know why they bother saying the place is off limits when no one is ever guarding it. There I can spot the tarp I mounted a week ago. This place was basically mine, since the lame people can't go anywhere near here.

I open my salmon teriyaki bento. The smell wafts and my mouth waters. I feel for my chopsticks. Gone.

Just my luck.

I run back down stairs to the classroom. Last time I ever pack my utensils separately.

The door slides open and I collide with other stupid pedestrian. We end up a heap on the floor.

"Hey, watch where you're going!"

The stranger, dressed in black, doesn't reply. He runs to the nearest stairwell and vanishes. I stare at what looked like nothing had even happened.

"Crikes, weird..."

...

I go down the quiet halls flooded with the afternoon light. The door is widely ajar to our classroom. I peer in and see the boy Kisuke digging through his own bag. He must have good ears because he turns immediately and spots me at the door like some stalker. His face was flushed, and he opens his mouth but no words come out.

"..." The silence is awkward, like both of us were mute, not just me.

He takes the first steps to leave the room. And I stand there until his footsteps fade to the far end of the hall. My face is all hot...Being caught and exposed in plain sight so quickly...I turn to go the other way when someone hits me full force in the solar plexus and the wind is knocked out of me in an instant.

"Omigosh...Did I hit someone?"

...

The wheels wouldn't move. I pulled back a bit. Rushing to lunch wasn't such a good idea after all.

She, I think, grunted. Her shoes tapped in contact with the tiled floors, and she stood up, I think.

"Ah...I'm sorry. I might have gotten lost in the east wing..." Silence.

She might be mute. If so, then it was futile, I couldn't read writing or their hand signs.

"Never mind..."

I feel her hand, again I'm guessing it's female, place over mine and tug in the other direction.

So the entrance was the other way...

"Um, excuse me, but can you lead me to the gardens?"

"..."

She pulls on my sleeve and I start wheeling. After a couple of turns and ups and downs on the elevator, I hear a smooth swish of mechanical doors and a thin breeze carrying the scent of grass.

"W-we're here,...right?"

She shakes my hand, as if to say yes.

"Oh, thank you. I-I'm sorry about crashing into you before. Thanks!" And I slowly wheeled off to my favorite spot. I don't know if she was looking or not.

...

I gingerly untie the cloth to my bento. Fifteen minutes. That's all that's left after every confused kid got their much needed help.

While munching on the salmon teriyaki rice, my textbook flips over the pages of the current chapter.

Logarithms, and variables...I let out a small sigh. The classroom was too quiet, with no one here.

Maybe tutoring wasn't so bad. I didn't really mind having people who were deaf to a certain degree around me. Some of them were actually quite sociable.

I stuff another bite. Five minutes left...

...

The ceiling and scenery are all white. Curtains dividing the beds flutter in the nearby breeze. I sigh.

The nurse comes in, shattering the tranquility.

"Dear, are you alright?"

I give a blank stare. Getting anemia in the middle of gym was worth it. But with this nosy croon around, I couldn't get any quiet time.

"Yes...fine..."

She pulls the curtains back and disappears. I think I'm the only one here in the office now.

Being in the special class is quite a pain, but you get free trips to the numerous offices of the nurse and psychologist.

"What fun..."

I can't seem to pull myself up.

...

The drumming of the pencil was getting on my nerves. Shinkawa had better stop it or I'd go crazy. The teacher drones on about verbs and English conjugations. I blow a puff up my bangs.

Lucky Trauma. Getting anemia in a convenient time like that...

Now Nobu starts tapping his feet. A catchy rhythm starts and Yui even starts humming.

I can't take much more of this.

My chair scrapes loudly as I get up and walk out of the room. The music's stopped and the teacher turns, quite unamused.

"Miss Matsuhisa, you are excused..."

I slide the door shut with a satisfying thud.

My footsteps resound loudly. Probably because I got flustered from that stupid mute surprising me. I grit my teeth.

...

The mechanical doors slide open. This academy's actually pretty high-class if one looks closely. Only thing is, it's only half of what it actually is. One half of the premise is for the disabled, and the other part is for regular students. Normally, I was supposed to go to that school. But I ended up transferring here.

The garden is pretty cool. I guess it couldn't hurt not to eat on the roof for once. There's a red bench on the side of the dirt trail.

"Aah...this would be nicer with a bit more shade-"

The rustling of the tall grass startles me from behind. That hooded figure from before?!

...

"Hey! Get outta there!"

Shoot, and I thought I'd be able to follow him a bit more unnoticed. I stand. He seems a bit surprised.

"You...you're that stupid mute from class!"

That word. That discriminatory word. I almost want to slap him, but I just shoot a glare. He flinched, I think.

"Well, you were following me, huh? Newspaper club?" He expects a nonexistent answer.

"Hm...Since I caught you...I'll make you my gofer!"

What?!

I flush. He grins. Without words. It was obvious who won.

...

The school bells ring their usual routine.

_Ding-Dong-Ding-Dong-Dong-Ding-Dong-Dong_

Before it repeats, I start slowly directing myself to the doors.

It's hard, but Otaru helped me get the hang of it in the first few days. Forward three revolutions, turn left and it's a straight road from there. Stop when you hear the swish of the doors.

Like me, Otaru is in the class especially for those with disabilities to the visual area. But he can walk, I can't.

Some of the class sports especially intriguing stories. Mizumi swears that she had escaped molesters after they had poured bleach in her eyes. Kujo says he was hurt by sea urchins doing deep sea diving. None of which are exactly credible, at the very least.

The doors are visibly heard opening, and I enter.

The acrid smell of smoke suddenly wafts into my nostrils.

Somebody is yelling is yelling in an inhumane voice.

"FIRE!"

...

Thick, black choking coils float along the halls. Screams can be heard from the east wing.

"Mr. Nishi! Fire!" I had to tell him the obvious. We were the only two in the room.

He had a steely look different from his usual aloof and observant stare. His hand pressed firmly on my shoulder as we ran into the clouded halls.

I coughed and sputtered. The solid smoke particles stung my eyes and my chest felt like bursting. I could hear only the smoke alarms, screams, and splashing of water.

"Mr. Nishi...Mr...!" I cry out like a frightened child. I couldn't see my own two feet.

His fingers tighten and I'm reassured by his presence. We ran into the stairwell where the smoke had yet to gather thick.

I pant and gasp. Little stings pricked my throat and my airways felt restricted. Through the ringing in my head, I head heavy clomps of feet. The firemen suddenly appeared.

They hurriedly ushered us down and out the building where we could clearly see that the fire sourced from the room just down the hall from ours.

Red trucks and man in heavy equipment were helping students and spraying hose water at the room window.

A teacher cries out. I recognize him as one of the special class teachers

"A student...Trauma! She's still at the nurse's!"

The nurse's was just where the fire started.

...

It's hot, it's bright. But I don't move. More like I don't want to.

The flames lick the edge of the bed that I barricaded in front of me. It's hard to breathe,but I don't care.

Will these plasma flames hurt? Of course. Will I die here? Probably. Do I care? Of course not.

I could see the nurse's body sprawled out at her desk. Blood, that wondrous crimson, was staining her saintly white coat. That was a flammable substance alright.

If she was dead, then no one will probably reach here. No one will see my body catch on fire.

I inhale another breath of the smoke riddled air. My eyelids grow heavy.

"So this is how it's like..."

That's all I heard before I collapsed. Then I saw blurry figures at the door way in clad black.

...Hell's Envoys...?

...

There is an awful lot of clamor.

I watch as the smoke rose from the broken window to the blue sky.

Before the fire, I definitely heard a scream. A female. The nurse. She must've set lit the fire like an idiot. If that was the case, she was likely dead.

The teacher is screaming and gesticulating in several directions. Trauma...Trauma...Maybe she was really dead. The ashes I see might as well be her's.

Suddenly, the firemen rush out of the mess with two bodies.

One was horribly charred, mangled and dead. The nurse. The other wasn't breathing and was in critical condition, but alive. Trauma.

...

"Ha!"

I thrust my arm forward, jabbing an invisible enemy.

These were some exercises I have to do while my uncle stays over. He's a martial arts maniac.

My new gofer stands on the porch. She watches, half entranced, half forlorn.

"Udon's ready!" Uncle Jiro's boisterous voice rings through the air.

"Coming!" I grab my coat. Gofer what's-her-name Rui holds my stuff by the door. She just stands there.

"Well, come on. It's lunch." She seems startled.

...

"Well, aren't you a fine catch?" The perverted old man hands me a bowl of steaming udon.

"Relax, old man, she can't talk." Oh, thanks Kisuke.

The old man turns to wash some articles in the sink. Kisuke leans over.

"My parents got me a dirt bike for my good grades. Watch me ride after this." Oh goody. Between him and his bike, they'll destroy the world.

After lunch, we wander to a dirt path near the shrine. I have to admit, he did look good with that motorcycle gear on.

He revs the handle, "Seeya later!" And with one pedal, the bike veers off. I peer to the path.

It was a rugged path, perfect for a dirt bike. Then as I squint ahead, I see it.

A dangerously sharp turn at the end of the road. A large rocky outcrop jut out of the corner and led into a densely wooded area. Anyone crazy enough to jump that would crack their heads. Or worse.

I open my mouth to warn him. Nothing comes out. I run as fast as I can. He hears my footsteps. Too late.

He turns his head, "What? Did you say-" I point frantically past him. He notices and tries to turn, but he's too close.

As the brakes slammed, the front wheel turned and flung the body up in the air. Kisuke sailed up and landed crashing his head on a tree. The sickening thud made my stomach flop. The bike jumped off the outcrop and crashed on the dirt. It sputtered.

Kisuke's helmet was badly dented. It stuck fast as I tried to remove it. His face was turning pale and his mouth had blood. I felt sick.

...

The school is in disarray after the fire. Authorities declare it was arson...until they found the flask of flammable disinfectant in the nurse's office. She had spilled it, and when mopping it up, her lighter fell out and lit the whole place in flames. The student marooned in the source of flame was lucky to have gotten out.

Classes had resumed the next day. The barriers between the schools had kept the other half unaware of the recent predicament. I feel the peeling wall. Since finals were near, the school couldn't afford to close down for repairs. Luckily, the damage wasn't too extensive, being that everything was pretty much fireproof.

...

I trudge down the stairs. The stairs that were singed with flame once. The school bell tolls again, and I hurry. Near the door, I see the mute class president's shoe locker open. Strange, it's not like Rui to leave her stuff unattended. The box was empty, save for a red umbrella.

I should return this right? Only...I have no idea where to find her. I was vice president of the deaf class, more like translator, and I have an obligation to help out my fellow classmates right?

...

...Am I dead?

There are murmurs of voices around. A loud hissing can be heard. But my eyes are too heavy to lift.

Exhausted, I drift off to the distant dreams.

...

Trauma was put in the ICU after the fire. I can only see her through the little slit of glass on the door. Only family are allowed inside.

I'd only known her for a year now. She's told me she doesn't know her family. I didn't ask. We never talk about much more than books.

Maybe that's why we're different from the other disabled. We just don't care.

…

Kisuke was whisked off to the emergency room for an operation as soon as I got his uncle. The old man was awfully quick to act compared to before once he saw me lugging his nephew in from a failed ride. He just drove us here without any questions.

Pretty soon, the parents start coming. Kisuke's look like a rich couple of businessman and star actress. My parents came only later.

"What happened?" The melodramatic tone of Ms. Omorishiki confirms my theory of her actress lifestyle. The father remains silent, but he notices me.

"Who are you?" His eyes narrow. Uh-oh, he thinks I'm responsible?!

I can't say a word but luckily the perverted uncle quips, "Oh, she's a classmate of Kisuke's. She's the one who got to him when this whole mess happened."

"Really...And what happened?" The father's degree of skepticism amazed me. I whip out my notebook and describe everything in writing. I hand him my explanation.

"Well, you mute people certainly write fast..." He muttered that part, but it was a bit too loud. His wife turned beet red and even the uncle blushed of embarrassment. I let that comment slide.

He read my explanation and didn't speak to me again. But he had to calm his wife and there became a heated conversation over whose fault it was to get the dirt bike. I don't know how long it took,but that was a great time killer because before I knew it, the head surgeon came out looking quite grim.

"Oh, doctor! How is our son?!" The mother tearfully rushes right up to the guy's face. Sheesh, give him some room. He pulls off his mask but leaves on his eye-wear.

"It...is hard to say..." He grips his arm, "I fear he may not live through the night...The damage was extensive...damaged skull, broken limbs and ribs, bruised organs, and intense hemorrhaging..."

The couple break down in front of me. I feel a shock. Why do I suddenly care? He was a spoiled brat the whole time to me, so why do I care? This must be how a bystander feels to see a complete stranger die before them.

Unbeknownst to me, my feet begin moving of my own free will. I slowly plod towards the doors at the end of the hallway. I hear them calling for me to stop but I run. I start running until I burst through the doors to stare truth in the face. Only to lose.

There were used scalpels and surgical cutting tools laid out on a bloodied tray. Startled surgeons stare at this little girl who interrupted at such a critical moment. Monitors and catheters and IV's are strewn about. The white blanket is stained crimson and I can just make out Kisuke's face underneath all the covers. His face is bloody and tubes extend down his throat to other machines. I just start to register the sickening smell of cleanser and blood. I lurched forward. Strong arms restrain me from collapsing completely though my vision fogs with red and black.

Gasping for breath, I steady after I hear people calling me back. I must've passed out because I'm in a hospital room. It's blood that scares me. There was so much...Like then, at that time...

Not all of the students were born cripples...


End file.
